


Ragging Down II

by Tribs



Series: No Longer in Progress Series Parts [9]
Category: Numenera (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Past Smutty Encounter, Light Swearing, Other, Short, Small Character Study, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 16:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18996748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tribs/pseuds/Tribs
Summary: Another quick shot of Solaris, this time with the nano who runs a scrap collection shop down the way, who he's ambiguously friends with. References 'The Strange' content.





	Ragging Down II

I closed up shop and started down the market street. My thumb struck a light, a tongue of white and yellow flickering from the upper metal “joint.” I pulled a thick cigar from one of my coat pockets - a remnant of a recent stint with the Peregrines - and wafted it through the flame as passerby caretakers shuffled children aside. 

I, and the person whose backstreet shop I was enroute to, were what the locals called _‘wyrd’._

Touched by the numenera. Cursed, warped, or  _ strange  _ compared to 'everyone else'.

The title Tallow had fashioned me to fill,  _ Master of the Hearths, _ had long since been replaced with ridiculous whispered hearsay of  _ halos  _ and  _ blessings from the stars. _

Juni, on the other hand, just had the misfortune of delving too deeply into places hir body wasn't built to handle. I’d seen the marks, twice before. Skin mottled, fluorescent, green and black fused deep into organic tissue, a mural of bruises and parasitic veins that would never touch the sun beneath the layers of metal and cloth. 

Sie never really discussed hir source, and I never discussed mine, but the kind of companionship regional isolation brought us was steadfast. 

_ Probably. _

There had been something I always meant to ask hir, even if the synthetic nerves behind the theory usually failed me.

_ Peerless? _

They tossed a notification of acknowledgement into our shared mindspace.

_ Are you quickened? Any of you, I mean. _

_ …  _

The silence suggested ‘no’, and that was probably for the best. Something about their parasitic nature wouldn’t translate well. I’d need to be rid of them before delving in. 

_ Nevermind. Enjoy your Solitaire.  _

The bell clattered as I pushed into the dusty, ever-dark workshop, met by brethren - a morbid equivalent to organ donors - strung up from hooks, and the creak of a broken fan. 

A voice - elderly, accented south of Glavis  - rasped from the back room, and with a puff of acrid smoke I skirted through the piles of scrap and plywood between here and there.

“Solaris.”

“Junebug.”

Sie huffed, ventilator-masked face turning across a well-covered shoulder so I could properly receive the covered glare.  “Told you about that nickname, Sol.”

“They exist.”

_ “Where?” _

“Somewhere else.”

Another long, crackling exhale replied as Juni stood, sweeping tools aside before gesturing for me to take my usual spot.  “You and your  _ ‘somewhere else’ _ s. And put that damn thing out, it’s the only reason you’re here.”

_ As monthly. _  I snubbed out the burning end of the cigar, tugged it free of the tube below my jaw, and set it down on the workbench before leaning back in a half-sit. 

“Not the only reason.”

“Only reason as far as I’m concerned. Shirt off.”

_ As we do. _  I unzipped my coat, shrugged it off, then started tugging my undershirt free; the hat went somewhere with it. 

Juni muttered something, and I shifted my display to look more teasingly inquisitive.  “Say again?”

“Still never seen a damn machine with hair, ‘cept you. Even short as it is”

“I was crafted to look distinguished.”

“Sure.”  Sie rapped a gloved knuckle against my torso segment, then started unfastening my chestplate.  “You keep saying that. Seen the way your headgear swivels when you get off, it looks all five degrees of ridiculous. Fucking gunk bucket.”

_ And I’ve seen how your flesh writhes, but I keep how that appears to myself. _

_ Peerless- _

_ Not now. Not ever, actually.   _ “Fuel for the furnace.”

Hir hands swapped tools, brush for screwdriver, and sie set to attacking the interior of my fuel processor.  “Your stomach doesn’t- We been over this. Weren’t made to eat smoke. Nobody is.”

I shrugged, snaking a hand around to pluck my cigar back up, but hir free one smacked it away. 

“Not in my face you aren’t. Know I’ll just be getting every huff of it you choke down that useless windpipe. ‘Least wait until I’m done before you start in on undoing all this scrubbing.”

“Sharing is caring.”  

“Then pay me early.”

“Junebug.”

“Sol.”

I played a sigh, plucked up the cigar, clicked my thumb to relight it, and held the bit-end up to hir ventilator. Hir free hand flipped the cover open, just enough, and thin blackened lips clamped around the paper.

“Better?”

“Sit still.”


End file.
